for J. G.
There is no return of uncreated soul to uncreated origin; there is the opening to a communion of soul and origin, a communion ultimately a gift of the origin, since everything that is, though finite, is also such a grace. G&B 273
June warmth blur of memory__gulls float between nitroblooms
Henry Thoreau is just not here__nor his crowning fact looms
his god-man but a gull’s cry__the greenish sparks that fly
from a duck’s head way out there__on the public bench I pass by
a homeless woman in a hoodie__the rich voice of Maya Angelou
shine of plastic bags at her feet__there is this mind passing through
pond songs 
Tom: Very observant — perhaps it was a cool day that suggested “June warmth blur of memory” I do not know what nitro-bloom is but imagine it is something in the water that is not good, especially the fact that Thoreau is mentioned in your Pond Song. And yes I can see that “homeless woman” with plastic bags at her feet. I do not think this was a particularly ‘happy’ Pond Song, but nevertheless I liked the descriptions! Judy B.
Date: Sun, 8 Jun 2014 17:18:43 +0000 To: jbrenner1936@hotmail.com